Heart's Content
by gti88
Summary: Hermione still looked murderous. Exasperated, I grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her by the hand up the stairs, back to our dormitory. I didn’t speak a word to her, until the door was closed behind me, and I charmed the chamber for complete privacy.


1st: I closed my eyes against the small amount of sunlight that managed to peak through my curtains when I felt something move

A/N: Just an intermittent H/Hr fic in response to a challenge...I claim the plot, with the exception of the first and last sentences…enjoy!

Heart's Content

I closed my eyes against the small amount of sunlight that managed to peak through my curtains, when I felt something move beside me. Turning over, my eyes settled on the form of Crookshanks, stretching out beside me. Hermione's kneazle had taken a liking to me for some unfathomable reason, and had developed a habit to sleep every night in my bed. Though that could also be due to Hermione's own withdrawal and snappishness towards others lately…

Her new attitude intrigued me to no end. While brushing my hair, I kept perusing the possible reasons: a boy she had fallen for? Or perhaps she was way too frustrated, in her unhealthy obsession with books, at a spell she couldn't master…I laughed quietly at the last thought.

I had reached the first conclusion, actually. I was a girl, so I should know – our gender did not become sulky and withdrawn without a reason, and romance was the probable culprit. All that remained now, was to figure out which one of Hogwarts' many eligible bachelors Hermione had fallen for…

I made my way down to the Gryffindor common room, determined to confront my best friend about the matter. Crookshanks darted ahead of me down the stairs, evidently in search of his mistress.

The search didn't take too long. It was still early on Saturday morning, and I saw Hermione lying asleep on the couch. A book lay open across her chest, and there was a quill clutched in her right hand. Judging by her deep breathing, I figured she had stayed up late, writing in the darned book…

Writing in her book? Well, that was a diary, of course, I reminded myself. Why else would Hermione devote such attention to it, as to deprive herself of sleep for the cause? My curiosity peaked, I advanced forth to take a small peek at the words Hermione had written…after all, I was her best friend, and her concerns meant I had to do everything in my power to help her resolve them.

Carefully, I removed Hermione's free hand from atop her diary, and slid it out of her hold as stealthily as I could. Then I plopped myself in the nearest plush chair, and flipped back a few pages, before beginning to read.

_December 19,_

_I can barely stand it. The blissful immersion that my studies afford me from the confrontations of reality is no longer available. Even while I'm doing my Arithmacy homework, he permeates my thoughts. I try to persuade myself to forget about him, but I might as well tell it to my window, because it's not going to happen. These words, which I currently write, offer me the only respite from this. How could I possibly become so entwined with Harry? It's never happened before, and it seems to be dominating my life recently, so far as to literally be hostile to my closest friends, in the attempt to find solace from thinking about him._

_I mean, I've been attracted to him for a long while, but I've managed to mask my feelings for him successfully, until quite recently. I don't understand it…dare I say it, I've irreversibly fallen in love with Harry, hard and fast…I usually have all the answers, but right now, I am about as confused as I can be…_

My chin had dropped in amazement. Harry? She had considered the possibility before, certainly, but never seriously enough…but now, she had confirmation of it, black on white. She skimmed over the next few pages, reading the entries, which ended with yesterday's date. Hermione quite clearly indicated her growing desperation with the affairs of the heart, and the increasing indecision she felt because of it.

Hermione, I sighed inwardly, what am I going to do with you? I know how determined she can be, and unless I confront her with the diary, she will deny this anytime I bring it up.

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt, when I suddenly saw Hermione stirring awake. Thinking quickly, I tried to come up with a way to conceal my trespass of her privacy, but the other half of my brain told me it was already too late. So I jumped to my feet, donned on my apologetic expression, and prepared to let forth a stream of "sorry!" and "I didn't mean to, honest!"

Hermione sat up on the couch, and Crookshanks shot into her lap. That should buy me valuable time, I thought, but inexplicably, I remained rooted to the spot. Had my feet been transformed to lead all of the sudden? My entire internal deliberations, willing Hermione not to notice me, completely failed. She set the kneazle on the couch next to her, and noticed me standing there, awkwardly, clutching her precious diary tightly in my hands. Her expression turned from delight, to amazement, and then to outrage, as she caught on to what I had done.

"Ginny!" she sprang up to her feet, and seeing that, the feeling suddenly returned to my own legs.

I stepped back a few times, hoping that Hermione could see I was sorry for my crime. "Hermione!" I said in a falsely cheery voice. "Beautiful morning isn't it!"

What? It was a beautiful morning…the sun was out for the first in weeks, and the light reflected brilliantly from the snow, and into the azure sky.

"Ginny," Hermione's voice was deadly quiet, and a dark pout had clouded her countenance. "What is _my _diary doing in _your _hands?"

Oh yes, she was mad. Hang on, make that _really _mad.

"Well," I mumbled, still backing away from the slowly progressing Hermione, "funny story actually…"

"Does it seem funny to you, Ginny?" my best friend's face had turned red with the rage.

"N-no," I replied meekly.

"So?" it was the same expectant, cold tone, and it finally collapsed my determination to hold out and face down her fierce gaze.

"You were sleeping and it was propped open and I took it and read it," I explained myself very rapidly. For some reason, I was still holding on tightly to the leather-bounded book.

"_You read it_!" Hermione shouted. "Ginny!"

"I'm sorry!" I nearly screamed back. "It was an accident!"

"An accident?" she was incredulous. "What do you mean, an accident!"

I was about to shout back a response, to tell Hermione what I had read, but thankfully, I checked myself just in time; Harry came down the stairs, followed by Ron, and he looked at us, silently enquiring about the commotion.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously. "We heard shouting upstairs."

Hermione froze, looking at me with wide, angry eyes, that promised me a slow, painful death, if I revealed anything I had read.

"Oh, nothing," I invented wildly, smiling widely all the while, "can't two friends have an argument on a Saturday morning?"

Harry looked at me oddly, but a second later seemed to dismiss it. "If you say so. We're going to the Great Hall for breakfast, if you're coming down soon."

On the way out of the portrait hole, I heard him saying to Ron that he would never understand girls…but what can I say, we didn't understand ourselves half the time!

Hermione still looked murderous. Exasperated, I grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her by the hand up the stairs, back to our dormitory. I didn't speak a word to her, until the door was closed behind me, and I charmed the chamber for complete privacy.

"All right, Granger," I sat Hermione down on the bed and looked at her sternly. "What do you have to tell me?"

Alas, Hermione's mouth was shut tight, and her eyes bore in mine contemptuously.

"Why would I have something to say to you?" she snapped. "You betrayed me."

"Betrayed you!" I was incredulous. "When and how?!"

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "Don't play dumb with me, Ginny. You know I'm much smarter than you."

All right, so I deserved that jab. Still, I had an ominous feeling that not all of Hermione's pent up frustration was released yet…hah, frustration…my corrupted mind wandered at the possible implications of that word…

"Listen, Hermione, I'm really sorry," I repented for the consecutive time. "I was just worried about you, and you seem distant as of late…"

"That's not true," Hermione said quickly, silently admonishing me to believe her.

"Yes, it is," I countered with the slightest hint of annoyance in my voice. "You wrote it, for Merlin's sake!"

"It's none of your business what I write," Hermione still retained her snappish tone. "You had no right to interrupt my privacy."

"Point taken, Professor," I ventured to make fun of my best friend to ease the tension slightly. "But what's done is done."

"That's all you have to say," Hermione raised her voice once more. "What's done is done?"

So much for the humour approach, I thought sourly, and reversed to my apologetic attitude.

"Look," I tried to reason, "I said I was sorry, and there, I say it again! I'm sorry! But blaming me won't help your situation."

"My life is completely under control, thank you very much." Great, she was still miffed at me.

"Oh yeah," I countered as casually as I could. "Especially those dreams that go on for pages – "

"Argh!" Hermione bolted up in surprise. "How –"

"Calm down, Hermione," I almost laughed. "Your secret is safe with me. Harry will never hear it from my lips."

"Ginny, I promise you, you breathe a word to anyone, I will kill you."

Yes, I could tell she was not kidding.

"Just as I said before, you could threaten me all you want, but it doesn't help you, nor Harry," I stated one more time, my annoyance with Hermione making itself more prominent. Here I was, hoping she would not fly into another fit of anger.

To my surprise, Hermione collapsed back down on the bed, and covered her face with her hands. A sob escaped her, and I could see her determination to keep her feelings harboured, was breaking.

"Ginny," she whispered to me in a quavering voice, looking up through teary eyes, "I don't know what to do…help me, please."

"Thought you'd never ask," I said brightly, and sat next to her, embracing her in a friendly hug. "Leave it to me, Hermione. I'll think of a way to make you and Harry come together as more than friends."

"No, you needn't do that, Ginny," Hermione told me a little stronger, "I only need someone I can talk to about this – "

"And help you resolve it," I finished for her. "There's no point denying it, Hermione. You're falling head over heels for the boy, and it's about time you acted on it."

"Why do I have the feeling this will go horribly wrong?" she asked me seriously.

"Because that's what love is," I answered expertly. "It's about taking a chance."

The ashen look on her face told me she was feeling her chances weren't too good at he moment.

I persuaded Hermione to come down to the Great Hall with me, to join Harry and my git of a brother, Ron, for breakfast. Even if there was still palpable tension between us, I was glad we were at least on speaking terms.

Harry and Ron were sitting at the Gryffindor table, seemingly talking about something serious amongst them. Hermione and I progressed swiftly up the table, and joined them.

"Hi, again," I put on my cheery voice, looking to alleviate the awkwardness as much as I could. "Enjoying your toast?"

"It's good," Ron said simply, eyeing me rather oddly too.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked in concern. "Hermione, you were pretty angry this morning."

The girl in question nearly choked on her juice, when Harry said that. My quick thinking saved us all, because I clapped Hermione on the back, and she soon gasped a deep breath.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized quickly, red all over.

"You scared me half to death!" I declared loudly, and gave her a hug, just to make sure she was still alive and breathing.

"Blimey, Hermione, don't do that again!" Ron voiced his own opinion with wide, fearful eyes.

"Are you okay?" I saw Harry almost instinctively place his hand on Hermione's, as he stretched across the table to check on her.

"I'm fine, Harry, I'm fine," she managed to respond more calmly, when she had regained her breathing rhythm. "Thank you."

"For an insensitive git, even I can tell something is not right here," Ron observed into the silence, after we had resumed eating, and the surrounding attention had subsided.

"Err…why?" Hermione cautiously asked Ron.

"Because," Harry put in forcefully before Ron could speak up, "you don't usually almost choke to death when I ask you a question."

"Lay off her, will you!" I piped up. "Hermione's just been under a lot of stress from schoolwork lately. She needs time to relax. Can't you two dunderheads figure that out!"

"Thanks, Ginny," I heard her whisper quietly in my direction.

"We're just concerned, is all," Harry explained weakly, clearly startled by my outburst. "We're her best friends too, you know."

"And that's very touching of you, Harry," I quelled him quickly, "but right now, Hermione needs me, and also some time to herself."

"Okay, we'll back off then," Ron agreed. "There's no need to be so forceful about it."

With that, Hermione and I said our goodbyes, and departed from the Great Hall. Unfortunately, from the corner of my eye I caught Harry's expression, and he did not look wholly convinced.

It took me the rest of Saturday, but I successfully managed to set my designs in motion. Had my calculations been right, and they usually are, Hermione was going to be freed from her weighing secret, and with a bit of luck, Harry would be the potential recipient of her affection.

I just had to congratulate myself on my brilliance. Convincing Hermione to meet me under the old birch tree by the lake in a few hours was perhaps the easiest of my tasks. She agreed to do it, and as I asked on her way to class, so she had little time to think about it and refuse.

Harry was a bit more difficult to crack. Coming up with an excuse to make him to the same spot was not easy, because he looked at me skeptically, every time I tried to provide a legitimate reason. In the end, though, he agreed, and I told him to be by the lake at precisely the same time.

All I had to do now was sit back and enjoy what I had arranged.

Whiling away the hours between my dormitory and the Common room, I played a couple of games of Exploding Snap with Fred and George, and when the time came, I snuck out ahead of Harry and Hermione, and concealing my tracks, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, to hide behind the birch.

My expectations were not disappointed, as I noticed after about ten minutes in the cold. Shivering, I noticed with a smile, as Hermoine came, looked around, and remained expectant, still glancing about her.

Not a few minutes passed, and Harry approached. Hermione gave a gasp of surprise, when she saw him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in confusion; being the evil schemer that I was, I snickered from my hiding spot.

"Ginny told me to come here," Harry replied. "Why are you here then?"

"She told me the exactly the same," Hermione said, her voice trailing. "Do you know where she is?"

"No, I haven't seen her recently…have you seen her anywhere?"

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head.

A silence fell over the two, as they waited for Ginny to come. The minutes soon turned into a half hour, and there was still no trace of her.

"I think we should go back," Hermione offered. "Before we freeze."

Harry was on the verge of agreeing, when something stopped him.

"Hermione," he said, "can I talk to you for a second? Here?"

She hesitated, but nodded her agreement. "What do you want to talk about?"

"About you, really," Harry said quietly, as the snow began to fall more heavily around them. "How have you been?"

"I've been great. Why?" Hermione answered, somewhat defensively.

"I know something's eating you, Hermione," Harry explained. "Please, tell me."

I watched, absorbed with interest.

Hermione sighed, and looked down. "Harry, it's really nothing."

"Hermione," he whispered, coming up to her, and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Tell me."

She looked up, and it was that moment, which I still recall vividly. The snow was falling quietly around them, and the passion, the desire, with which she looked into his eyes - it surprised me even. I had no idea she felt so strongly about him. Over the wind, I could hear her breath quicken. Somehow, I could feel her becoming ensnared by him, and vice versa…

No words were exchanged between them. Her eyes were a sea of emotion, which he could happily drown into. What caused it? What did it mean? He didn't know…but slowly leaning in, his lips met hers…a palpable kiss, at first, timid, careful…then slowly, but surely, it intensified, became more confident, powerful…I watched them, mesmerized, sharing a kiss in the snow, thinking to myself I had seen nothing more beautiful prior to this…

"Harry," Hermione whispered hoarsely, when they parted. "I think I have to tell you this…"

He looked at her intensely; willing himself to believe this wasn't a dream.

"I love you," Hermione admitted quietly. "I always have."

"I know, Hermione," Harry replied, and in the next second, wondering how exactly he knew. "I love you too."

They embraced, sharing another kiss. I was lost, trying to decipher how they had managed to admit their feelings towards one another, literally from nothing. What happened between them? I think Hermione finally couldn't hold it in, and the sight of Harry, standing there, inches from her, finally pushed her over the top…thanks to moi, might I add smugly.

Smiling inwardly, I quietly disengaged myself from behind the tree, and made my way back to the castle through a roundabout way, feeling very happy for my best friend.

What can I say? I suppose I have a talent…the next day, Harry and I were talking, and he asked me about last night. Pausing for effect, I relayed my brilliant plan to Harry, whose incredulity only increased as I spoke. He started to question me, just as I intended to leave, but I wouldn't have it. Hermione had taken a turn for the better after she and Harry had become an item, and I did not want Harry to delve further in my methods. So, I turned to face him one last time before I walked through the door, and I couldn't resist smiling at the look of shock upon his face.

Fin.


End file.
